Phoenix Fire
by Ryoukko-kai
Summary: Yusuke Urameshi was a fairly normal kid. That is, until a half dead demon shows up on his doorstep, claiming that Yusuke is a demon as well. Intrigued, Yusuke decides to help this Hiei guy, whoever he is. Things only get crazier from there.  Slight AU
1. Uh, Wait, You Mean Me?

Yes, Ice Freezes. Yes, Kerfuffle. Yeah, I know. But the inspiration parakeets struck, and it was far too late to back out then. This was just an idea... What if, in the story Two Shots (volume seven of the manga, how Hiei and Kurama first met. Hiei thought Kurama was working for a powerful demon, Eight-Hands, who he also thought had kidnapped Yukina (Hiei was wrong on both counts). When he attacked Kurama, Kurama grew a sword out of a blade of grass and fought him. He won. Hiei had this huge sword wound across his chest that Kurama said was "awfully deep", but Kurama healed him up. Yeah. Brief summary there, kind of sucky), Kurama hadn't taken Hiei back to his house and healed the sword wound? What if he had said "Screw this, he tried to kill me!" and left him to die? What if, wounded and dying, Hiei sought out someone else to help him? Yeah. That's it. Well, uh, read and review! As for the title, well, Hiei's a fire demon and Yusuke's Spirit Beast is a phoenix, so, for lack of a better title...

* * *

I yawned, flipping the channel. Cheesy movie. Junk. Cartoon. Junk. Reality show. Junk. Another crappy movie. Junk. 

"Can't you show something that doesn't suck?" I demanded of the television.

Its response was showing another crappy movie. Throwing my hands in the air in a "why bother?" gesture, I flipped the channel again. Lo and behold, more junk. Wednesday TV really did suck.

Throwing the remote down, I walked into the kitchen. Food would make me feel better! I grabbed a bag of popcorn from a cabinet, threw it in the microwave, and punched in "four minutes". That sounded about right.

All this I was doing instead of schoolwork. Yup, I had what should've been an hour's worth of homework from the past three days (I had skipped every one of them) and had no intention of doing any of it. I mean, I wasn't going to repeat the friggin' grade, so why bother with the homework?

Hi. I'm Yusuke Urameshi, age thirteen. I'm called a juvenile delinquent by my fellow classmates. My mom doesn't particularly care about me, and my only friend is a girl named Keiko who's always hounding me about not doing enough. I've spent more time in arcades during school hours than any other kid in the city, I knew where best to hit a guy to incapacitate him from age six, and I've been pretty much taking care of myself since my mom knew I was old enough to be left home alone without killing myself or burning the place down. My life sucks, doesn't it?

I shrugged, moving to grab my popcorn from the microwave, which had beeped at me as if complaining that I hadn't hurried fast enough. Was _everyone_ yelling at me? A gush of awful-smelling air came out of the microwave, and part of the bag was a blackish color. Ah. Burned. Just great. I figured that I'd leave it for my mom to take care of. Not my worry, eh? I was too lazy to pop another bag. 'Sides, it was probably the last one anyway.

Someone tried to open my door right then. I mean, no knock or anything. I know I'm rude, but really! I guess locking the door hadn't been such a bad choice after all. I cocked my head to the side, curious. No one ever came here except for the gangs my mom got in trouble with or occasionally Keiko; my mom was out with the former, probably getting drunker than an Irishman during Oktoberfest right now, and it was far too late for the latter. Who the hell was this?

I opened the door. After all, I could take care of myself. I've been fighting with the other kids since the third grade and was quite good at it. I didn't think I was in any real danger, and if I was, well… I never was one to plan ahead. The point is, I opened the door.

A short, and I mean "welcome to Munchkin land" short, guy half-stepped, half-stumbled in. His eyes were an unnatural red, and were _huge _in comparison to his head. Hair that was every bit as black as mine stood straight up, as if the guy had had a bad run-in with some punks and gotten it glued in place (I'd done that to someone once. That showed them, trying to steal my stuff!), and a bright white patch was in the front. Of course, what got to me most was the fact that he was clutching his chest as if trying to keep his guts in. Blood had soaked through his weird black cloak (seriously, is this guy some kind of cultist? Red eyes and a black cloak… Really!) and stained his hand, too. A sword was belted at his hip, although it looked hastily done. I guess he didn't want to lose it but couldn't take any real time what with that cut.

He swayed on his feet a little, staring at me blankly, almost like he couldn't even see me. He blinked once or twice, and then looked at me.

"Against my better…judgment, I'm looking to you…for help. I'm dying," he spoke slowly. I guess he was too hurt. Must've been one hell of a street fight for knives and swords to have been brought in. Nothing like my usual fistfights… Although I've been in stuff plenty tough! Really! "Help…me."

I reached for the phone, about to call 9-1-1. He needed the hospital, not me. The hell was I supposed to do?

"Don't," he said. Suddenly, he gasped, eyes wide. It must be paining him… "You can't…call anyone."

"Why the hell not?" I demanded, staring at him like he was crazy. First he tells me to help him then he tells me not to!

"Because…I'm a demon…and you're one too."

With that, his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed, splattering blood all over the floor.

* * *

Suspend belief for a second and say that Hiei could sense Yusuke's ma-zoku heritage. Please, for the sake of plotline. Okay...yeah. Please tell me what you think.  



	2. Three Eyes

Okay everyone, I had a lot of nice reviews for last chapter. That's very good! Now, as you could probably tell, that was just sort of an intro chapter. From here one out, they're all going to be about as long as this one; so, somewhere around three thousand words, usually. Well, okey-dokey, just read and review.

* * *

I stared at him. The guy was more out of it than my mother after her fifth drink down at Ishoshi's. Me? A demon? He must've been on something pretty strong. Yeah, that was it. Must've been drinking vodka or something. That, or blood loss was getting to him. 

Remembering that he was actually, seriously hurt snapped me out of it. Who cared if he was a drunk or a drug addict? He was going to die if I didn't help him! At least he had that part right. Still…those red eyes of his. Humans did not have red eyes. Contact lenses, then. I was curious, though. I couldn't help myself; I pried open one of his eyes.

I could barely see his irises. He really wasn't kidding about this. That telltale off-colored ring around the iris wasn't there, though. They couldn't have been contacts.

A shiver ran down my spine, although it wasn't one of fear. It was one of anticipation, the same nervous excitement I got right before going up against a particularly good fighter. He wasn't kidding. This was the real deal here. Running my fingers through his hair, I could tell that it grew like that naturally. No glue, no hair gel, just…natural. He really wasn't kidding.

And he was bleeding to death, I reminded myself. He was going to die if I didn't do something about it. Slightly weirded out by the fact that I was about to take off some guy's shirt, I nonetheless pulled his cult-cloak (as I was mentally referring to it as) off over his head, after taking off his belt. He was wearing a sensible black tank top that looked like it _used_ to be a regular shirt before the sleeves were ripped off. I could appreciate that; I had several such outfits up in my closet. That, too, was pulled off.

"Damn, man, who did you piss off?" I asked.

A large sword- or knife wound cut him from shoulder to near the bottom of his ribcage in a diagonal slash. It looked pretty deep, too. I'd taken a few broken ribs before, but nothing like this in one of my fights. I grabbed he first aid kit my mom kept for my own occasional wounds (that, or whenever that dope Kuwabara showed up 'cause I had pounded his face in. Dumbass) and quickly had him nicely washed and bandaged up. I lay him on the couch; the guy looked like he could use the rest. I didn't worry about my mom coming home and finding a shirtless, half-dead guy on our couch; not only would she be gone for hours more, but I highly doubted that she'd notice or care even if she did come home.

There was some kind of weird white headband tied around his forehead. Seriously, if I had been a bit apprehensive before, I was really skeptic now. What kind of guy wears a friggin' headband? I figured he'd be a bit more comfortable if I took it off, so I reached over.

Then it felt like someone had iced over my brain. I mean brain freeze…nothing on this. Just cold and for the first time, I was really, truly scared of this guy.

The feeling passed in a second, but I was still a bit nervous. What was that? Some kind of psychic power? Or, my mind said, a demon thing? Shrugging, I dismissed it. It was just because of those crappy horror movies that were on earlier. I wasn't afraid of anything! Just to prove how completely unafraid I was, I pulled his headband off.

"Frick!" I exclaimed.

There, in the center of his forehead, was a third eye. I was really starting to believe him now. This thing was no trick at all. It wasn't paint, it wasn't a sticker, it was a goddamn third eye. I mean, it was this purple color, and it was all wet and looked just like a real eye, only the pupil was slit-like, kind of like a cat's eye. The thing even followed as I moved my hand. This was too weird…

"I guess Three-Eyes wasn't kidding," I muttered, pulling his boots off.

He stirred weakly in his sleep, muttering "Yukina" once or twice. I had no clue who this Yukina person was, but she must've been important to him. Maybe a she-demon or something. Yeah, his little girlfriend, or whatever demons had.

"Calm down, buddy. You're going to have a lot of explaining to do when you wake up."

I sat down at the end of the couch, since Three-Eyes here didn't take up much room. Did I mention that he was short? Seriously! I mean like "I shall call him…Mini-Me" short. Yeah. Well, he is. Back to TV, as if nothing had happened, as if there wasn't a "Santa Claus's little helper-elf" short guy with a huge slash wound lying right next to me. I flipped the channel again. Some animal channel special was on. Ah, crappy shows. Why couldn't there ever be anything good on when I wanted to watch something?

I watched crap-TV for another couple of hours, unwilling to go to bed while a three-eyed, sword-slinging, midget demon was loose in my house. It wasn't so much fear that he'd kill me in my sleep or rob us blind; something told me he wouldn't repay someone who had helped him like that. No, it was curiosity that kept me from turning my back on him. I couldn't dare risk my one chance to find out about the whole supernatural world he had so tantalizingly dangled in front of my face, like a carrot dangled in front of a pack mule's nose. What was to keep him from running away with nothing but a thank-you note, if that, left behind? There was nothing. I wouldn't, couldn't, pass this up.

And so, I waited for him to wake up, waited to question him. Curiosity was too much for me.

So, when he sleepily stirred, and then sat up, I was ready.

"So there, Demon-Boy, I'd like some explaining here," I impatiently said.

He stared at me blankly, eyes dull, as if he was looking past me instead of at me. The black-haired boy nodded slowly.

"Okay, for starters, what the hell is your name?"

"Hiei," he replied, fires blazing in those eyes. I could tell that he was merely caught off-guard for a second and that now he meant business.

"Great! I'm Yusuke. Okay, now, the hell happened to you?"

"Does it matter?" he asked. There was no real emotion in that "Keebler-factory reject" short demon's voice. Completely deadpan, I swear!

"Yeah, seeing as I've spent the past couple of hours treating this 'does it matter' wound!" I insisted.

"Sword fight. I lost," Hiei muttered. He didn't seem too comfortable with the topic, so I figured he wasn't too used to losing. I could relate.

"Uh-huh. Okay then. Now, who were you fighting with? Why?"

"A fox demon, and for personal reasons."

"Personal reasons? And what would those be?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I don't need to tell you," he growled.

"I didn't need to save you!" I pointed out.

"I may owe you my life, but that will not make me tell you my life's history and answer every question, Yusuke. I am grateful" he practically spat the word at me "for the help, but I am _not_ to be your slave."

"Understood. Geez, take it easy, man," I replied. "So, buddy, you really are a demon… Are all demons as civil as you?"

He seemed taken aback by that. I guess he didn't consider himself particularly civil or whatnot. That, or I had something stuck in my teeth and he was trying to be polite about it by not laughing or something.

"No," he said. "A decent portion of youkai are savage creatures that would repay your kindness by ripping your head off. I'm a demon of my honor, though, and I would not do that without sufficient reason. Such as, if you _stole my sword!_" he fumed. I guessed it meant a lot to him. Maybe he wasn't comfortable without it. I knew guys like that. Have to have a knife or something close at hand to feel secure. That or a bottle of something strong or a nice smoke or something. Me, I can't relate. I don't use anything other than my good old fists, and I'll be damned if someone's going to steal those from me. Nah, I'm pretty much comfortable wherever I am. I'm just a cheery guy like that.

"Relax, Hiei, I didn't try and steal your sword. It's over there, against the closet door with what's left of your shirt and cloak. I can't exactly sew those back together, and neither can my mom, so unless you can I don't think those are going to stay very long," I told him.

He started to get up, but I knew that moving around wouldn't help him at all.

"No, I'll get it. You're going to bleed to death, and how the hell am I supposed to explain it to the cops when I have a bloody, three-eyed demon corpse on my couch?" I questioned. Of course, I was kidding! Still, where would we all be without jokes?

He looked at the sword, then back at me, then back at the sword.

"Never mind. It can stay there," he decided.

"Yeah. So, what do you feel like doing now? I mean, you can't exactly leave, but I don't think you want to just lay there and watch crappy Wednesday night TV."

He looked at me for a second before his nose started twitching, like he smelled something interesting. Hiei looked puzzled for a second, before closing his eyes and sniffing the air again.

"I don't know about you, but something smells burned to me. You might want to take care of that," he announced, staring at me again. His deep crimson eyes were kind of unnerving. I mean, it wasn't 'cause they were red, or even because they were shaped all funky-like, which surprised me, because I'd expect the whole alien look of him to be the worst part. But the red color of his irises or that purple third eye that watched my every move wasn't what got to me. It was the fact that he looked me dead in the eyes, staring intently as if he could tell everything about me just by looking. It weirded me out, kind of. Not really, though! Like I said, I'm scared of nothing! Certainly not some pint-sized, three-eyed psycho! Nuh-uh!  
"Yeah, that's just popcorn. My mom'll take care of it later. Speaking of food, I'm kind of hungry. You want anything?" I asked. Okay, so it was a lie, since I certainly didn't need food now. But hey, he looked like he was about to drop from hunger or something, so I figured why not be nice to the guy who's supposed to tell you all about some sort of supernatural demon stuff?

"I don't need anything," he stated.

I arched an eyebrow questioningly. I guess his pride prevented him or something. Go figure.

"Well, it's considered rude to humans to refuse offered help. So, you know, you saying that is offending me," I explained. I'd just have to hope that he didn't know enough about humans to know that I was lying all over the place.

His eyebrows rose, before he nodded.

"Very well, then."

He sounded relieved that he was supposed to accept, and I realized that my guess that he hadn't eaten in a good long while was probably correct. Poor little demon guy! I mean, I'd freak out if I hadn't had food in a while. I didn't even like missing lunch!

I left him alone, trusting Hiei not to do something stupid or homicidal in the five minutes I would be gone. I grabbed the burnt bag of popcorn from the microwave, threw it in the trash without a second thought, and shoved in a cup of water. In all of five minutes, I had a little cup of soup made. Grabbing a spoon, I carried the food back into the living room.

Hiei was staring at the werewolf movie that was on with mixed curiosity and disbelief.

"This is strange…" he remarked, looking up at me. "It looks so fake."

"That's 'cause it is," I chuckled. "It's just a movie. Uh, humans film stuff like this and have costumes and stuff to make it more realistic. Kind of like a play or something."

He nodded in understanding, wordlessly taking the soup cup out of my hand.

"Careful—It's hot," I told him.

"I'm a fire demon. 'Hot' doesn't bother me one bit," he replied, sipping at the soup straight out of the Styrofoam container.

I nodded, sitting down next to him.

"So, how many kinds of demons are there? I mean, you mentioned fighting a fox demon, and you're a fire demon, so what?"

"There are countless hundreds. The species themselves are diverse, and the number of crossbreeds and such make it uncountable. I wouldn't have bothered knowing them all anyway," he replied, practically inhaling the noodles. I would've laughed, except for his whole pride problem. He seemed bad enough off without me laughing at him, so, for once, I kept my mouth shut.

"So, what kind of demon am I?" I asked.

He practically choked on the noodles. For a second, he just sat there, coughing, and clutching his chest like it was hurting him. I guessed that sword wound went deep enough to bother him. He finally regained his composure after a bit, and just kind of stared at me. It was fun to watch his stunned reaction to my simple question, although he had managed to cough bits of half-chewed noodles all over me. That part? Not so fun.

"What do you mean? You're a human!" he exclaimed.

"Well, when you showed up here, you said that I was a demon," I replied.

"I can't imagine why I'd say that. There's nothing demonic about you, from your appearance to your aura. Either the blood loss had affected me to the point where I was delusional, which seems highly likely, since I seem to remember a great big wolf coming up, sniffing at me, then running, or I had lied to get myself into your house and under your care. I do not remember lying to you, though," he said with a shrug. "I think you might want to change out of that shirt."

Looking down, I figured that he was right. My t-shirt was covered in bloodstains from his sword wound, and now it had little bits of noodle on it. Smiling at him, I left the room to change.

When I returned, I found him trying to stand up.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Moving," he replied, although a second later his eyes became unfocused and he fell to his knees. I rushed over, checking to see how badly he was hurt. Hiei only seemed a bit disoriented, though, and with a little help he was back on the couch.

"What's wrong with me?" he murmured. "I _have_ to challenge Eight-Hands!"

"One, you're still weak from blood loss. Two, you aren't going to fight anyone in that condition! Even I wouldn't be that stupid!"

He glared at me.

"I have to. If I don't not only will your whole city be damned –like I care about that, by the way—but something important to me may be lost. Action is necessary!" he seethed. "If only I was stronger…"

"Look, buddy, that's great, but I don't think this Eight-Hands guy is going to wipe out my whole city in the day or two it takes for you to recover. And hey, if he does, the two of us can take him from here," I assured.

He snorted.

"A mere human? Take down Eight-Hands? Impossible."

"I didn't say a mere human. I said Yusuke Urameshi! That, and I'll have your help, too, so the odds will be even better!"

He shook his head.

"I can't believe you humans. Well, then, if you are _so_ determined to help, I suppose I have no choice but to let you," he conceded.

"So, we're fighting partners for now?"

"I suppose so…" he agreed.

"Great! Let's glitter glue some team t-shirts and make a banner!" I declared.

He stared at me as if to say "the hell is glitter glue and what do t-shirts have to do with demon fighting?", and then shrugged.

"It's a human thing, Hiei. Never mind," I said with a laugh.

He shrugged, set down his now-empty soup, before laying his head on the couch armrest and going back to sleep.

* * *

So, a much lighter type of story than what I usually right, eh? So, yeah. I can try a humor-esque story too! I'm thinking of switching the point of view between Yusuke and Hiei from here on out, but I'm not sure... Should I keep swapping back and forth or keep it in Yusuke's? shrugs Whatever. So, just click that happy purple button marked "Submit review" and tell me what you think, okay? 


	3. Tangled Black Deathtrap

I figured that I could trust him, and that he'd be out of it for a good couple of hours, so I decided that I could use some sleep too. After all, it was somewhere near twelve thirty now, and I wasn't used to skipping sleep, nor was I sure if he was an early riser or not. Currently, he was dead asleep on my couch and looking as if nothing in the world could wake him, but I wasn't sure that Hiei wouldn't just bolt wide awake as soon as the sun rose. Come to think of it, I didn't even know if there was a sun in the demon world or not. Shrugging, I climbed into my own bed and fell asleep.

* * *

"Yusuke!"

I rolled over, trying to fall back asleep. Someone was calling my name…

"Yusuke! Get down here!"

Damn. It was my mother, Atsuko. And man did she sound pissed. I guess she discovered old Three-Eyes there. I had counted on her staying out for a few more hours and giving me a chance to hide him. Even if I hadn't, I had also figured that she wouldn't care. I guess I was wrong on both counts.

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, sitting up. I yawned widely, stretching, and got out of bed. After a quick shower and after gelling my hair into place, per usual, I got dressed and headed downstairs.

"What is it?" I demanded.

"Who is this?" she demanded, gesturing at a sleeping Hiei.

"Relax, Mom, he's just staying here for a little bit. Speaking of that, I have to change his bandages. C'mon, move!" I ordered, shoving past her.

"Why don't you ever do anything productive, Yusuke? You're already late for school!" she complained.

"Yeah, yeah, productive…" I grumbled. "I'll do it later."

She sighed, taking a long drink from her bottle of…whatever sort of alcohol she had as of now. I didn't know or care. After growing up seeing her drinking continuously, it didn't really affect me much. For the most part, though, she left me alone, unless she was hounding me about "not doing enough" or "never going to school". Really, it was my goddamn life, and I didn't need her telling me how to live it! 'Sides, she was a hypocrite anyway, spending all her time getting drunk or extorting from people. How fair was that?

I grabbed the roll of bandages before heading over to Hiei. I figured that the whole demon thing would go clear over Atsuko's head. She'd probably ask if I was trying some of her whiskey again, or just complain that her son was insane. Ha. I was far saner than she was…then again, I was the one with the three-eyed demon buddy.

"Hey, Hiei," I said, shaking him on the shoulder. The sleeping demon grunted and rolled over. How cute.

"Hiei, wake up, man."

"Hiei!"

His odd red eyes snapped open, and he bolted upright, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and raising a hand for a punch. Realizing who I was, he stopped, letting his hands fall back to his sides.

"Frick, dude, you nearly socked me! The hell did I do to deserve that?" I asked, holding up the roll of bandages to explain what I was doing.

"I didn't mean to," he replied, having the grace to look ashamed. "Fighting instincts. Usually, anything that was calling my name was trying to kill me."

"O…kay…" I muttered. "Now, are you gonna help me change those, or are you gonna just sit there?"

Without a second thought to it, he ripped off the blood-soaked bandages and dropped them on the carpet. Ouch. Mom's not going to like that…

The wound looked a lot better than it did yesterday, although it was still pretty nasty. That sword slash had almost killed Hiei, and I was sure that he would've bled to death if I hadn't helped him. It had fortunately stopped bleeding, although the skin looked raw and sore all over. A crust of dried blood surrounded and coated the wound, and I knew that despite how he would react I'd have to clean it again.

"Hey, Hiei, before we bandage that up, I'm going to have to clean it off. I mean, you don't want to get an infection, do you?"

He shrugged.

"Fine by me," he murmured, eyes half-closed and looking horribly unfocused. I guessed that the blood loss was messing with his mind.

"Okay. This is going to sting," I told him, wetting a dishcloth with warm water. Stepping back over, I gently dabbed at the blood.

He winced, tensing up, and for a second it looked like he was about to attack me, but then he relaxed again, occasionally gasping in pain whenever I was unintentionally rough or went over a spot that was particularly sore. Still, he was a good little patient, and he didn't struggle, scream, or make it difficult for me. Soon enough, he was bandaged up again, and was staring at me as if waiting for something.

"Oh!" I realized. "I bet you're hungry."

"I'm not some little animal you found on the side of the road," he growled. "I will not be treated as such."

"Geez, man, lighten up… Okay, then. Do you want something to eat?" I asked, annoyed. If he wanted to be moody, he could go do it somewhere else.

He looked like he was about to refuse, but he caught himself. I suppose he remembered my whole lie about it being considered disrespectful among humans to refuse help. Good thing too, 'cause he looked awfully skinny. Actually, he must've been terribly underweight. When I had picked him up to move him to the couch, his weight barely even bothered me, and I'm not particularly big myself. Of course, I'm plenty tough, just not big!

Instead, he settled for a curt nod, although his eyes kept slipping out of focus. I wondered why that was. He didn't seem to have too many focusing problems last night; at least I didn't think so. Ah well. He'd be fine.

"Okey-dokey," I said, and walked over to the kitchen. Again, I figured some hot soup would do him well. Mom always gave me soup when I was sick, so I figured it would help him while he was hurt. Besides, if all else failed, he had seemed to like it yesterday, and no one can go wrong with soup!

I brought back out a bowl of canned soup and a spoon, although I figured he wouldn't use the utensil anyway. He hadn't touched it when I handed it to him last time.

"Here you go, Three-Eyes," I cheerfully said, handing it to him. He had pulled his shirt back on, I noticed, but I didn't really care. As expected, he stared at the spoon for a second before setting it to the side, actually managing to slurp soup gracefully. Don't ask me how he did it, but he did. He gulped down noodles and little chunks of carrot and chicken with barely a sound, and what noise he did make sounded _dignified_. I mean, he was practically inhaling this stuff, and any normal person would've been making disgusting slurping sounds and getting flecks of soup broth everywhere, but he didn't. It was weird, but at the same time really, really cool.

"What?" he demanded. It was then that I realized that I had been staring at him. Oops!

"Just thinking about you, soup, and noise," I replied.

He glared at me as if to say "and?", although since he was still holding the bowl to his face he looked funny instead of threatening. I wasn't going to tell him that, though!

"Well, you know, any…other (I had about to say "any normal", but I caught myself) person would be making a ton of noise, yet you sound all quiet instead."

He gave an ambiguous grunt and went back to eating. After his quiet eating, I was sure he'd drink the broth that was left over in an equally smooth fashion, but not so. He held the bowl in his hands and lowered his head, lapping at it like a dog. I was appalled. Surely he didn't think that was acceptable!

Licking the bottom of the bowl, and his fingers, clean, Hiei looked up at me quizzically, tongue darting out to clean a bit of broth off of his lip. Some of his jet-black hair was wet with soup broth, making me look well-groomed in comparison.

"What are you staring at?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. I was right in thinking that the soup would be good for him; some color had come back to his pale cheeks, and not for the first time was I wondering how unhealthy his life had been. Who knew what sort of psycho diseases he could have?

"You are so weird," I muttered.

"What in hell do you mean?"

"Well, uh, the fact that you drank soup like a freaking dog… That was pretty freaky, dude."

He blinked at me, wearing the most hysterical expression. It was a mix between curiosity and outrage, although it looked like he was trying to maintain the latter without letting the former show. Too funny!

"Here. In Human World, you use a _spoon_ to eat soup," I clarified, handing him the utensil to make my point.

"I know what a spoon is," he growled.

"Right. And…why didn't you use it?"

"I am allowed to do whatever I want to, and eating without that is more comfortable," he stated, holding it in a clenched fist, like one would hold a sword.

I shook my head, turning away to hide my smile. Like I said, he probably had some serious self-esteem issues, so I didn't want to hurt the little guy's feelings.

"So, uh, Hiei, what's the point of that freaky third eye? Something with evolution or whatever?" I asked.

He snorted inelegantly, and I was reminded again of just how rough he was. I had no clue of whether or not demons had manners or whatnot, but he seemed real unrefined. Kind of like me, you know. But really, he was something else. For starters, he looked horribly unkempt, like he hadn't bathed in days, if that. His hair was matted with soup broth, what looked suspiciously like blood, a little bit of mud, and pine needles and such poked out of it. My earlier thought about diseases came back to mind. What if he had lice or fleas? I had touched him without thinking about it! I made a mental note to ask him about it later. His face was kind of grubby, too, and his boots, which were sitting by the door, had the soles worn thin and blood and dirt was all over them. Ah well. I wasn't exactly the image of perfect grooming myself. I'd just let him take a shower and brush out that bird's nest that he called hair.

"I do not know what the 'point' is, but it does allow me a fairly decent range of telepathic abilities," he said, a faint purple glow shining through his headband, which he had replaced sometime earlier. "For instance, you are currently thinking that I need to take a 'shower'. I'm unfamiliar with the term. What the hell is it?"

I chuckled, unable to help myself.

"Come with me," I said, grabbing him by the hand. He snarled in a feral manner, jerking his hand away, and for a second his crimson eyes were narrowed to the point where he _had_ to have been having vision problems. I'd know; I've tried glaring so that my eyes were as close to being just coffee-brown slits as possible, and after a second it gave me a headache. A few more seconds, and I couldn't see a thing, 'cause my vision was all black. Then for a little after that I felt dizzy and everything was blurry. What? Don't believe me? Then try it yourself! Don't say I didn't warn you, by the way, because I'm pretty sure that I just did.

Despite his growl of annoyance, he still followed me. Probably because he knew that, in his wounded state, he was no match for the Great Urameshi, but the point is, he did. I led him to the bathroom, while he watched on warily as I turned the hot water on. He jumped, startled at the stream of water that flowed out of the spigot, but recovered quickly, saying nothing. I pulled on the little lever-tab-thingy that starts the actual shower part, and the water sprayed out of the showerhead.

"That," I said, voice two parts smug satisfaction and one part instructing, "Is a shower."

He nodded.

"So, like automated rain, only warm."

"Well, you could make it cold if you wanted to. Now, you're just supposed to strip and get in. There's soap on the little ledge-thing over there" I pointed it out "and shampoo over there. Okay?"

He nodded, and shrugged off his shirt, pulling the bandages off. As I stared in bewilderment, he undid one of the many belts that held his pants in place.

"The hell?" I yelped, backing up. "Aren't you going to wait for me to leave?"

He stared at me.

"Why?" Hiei said simply.

"Because you don't just go around naked in front of your friend!"

"Friend?" he echoed, staring. There was a wistful tone in his voice.

"Well, yeah. We're friends, right?"

He stared at me for a bit, before, for the first time, he looked away. It didn't take a genius to see that he wanted to say something, but he bit back his words.

"What is your problem?" he asked.

Belatedly, I noticed that he had gotten all of those weird belts off, as well as that funky headband.

"Could you please stop that for a second?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't go so far as to remove his pants while I was here. A faint blush was painted across my cheeks, which was really rare since I was pretty much shameless. "Look, you don't just flash random people!"

"Why are you embarrassed?" he wondered. "I am not ashamed of my body."

"Um, yeah… That's just kind of wrong here. Look, I'm not some kind of pedophile, so, uh, I'll just leave now. For future reference, Three-Eyes, it is just plain wrong here to go _anywhere _naked, okay?'

I assume he nodded, since I didn't stick around long enough to see. Instead, I threw his dishes in the sink and wolfed down some teriyaki chicken from two nights ago. Finding nothing else to do, I actually began to clean up. Shocker, I know! Still, someone had to do it, and Mom sure as hell wasn't going to anytime soon.

I suddenly realized that "short, injured, and grumpy" didn't have any clothes to change into. And after seeing how he seemed completely oblivious to modesty in any form, I wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't just come out stark naked, or wearing those flea-infested rags he had earlier. I grabbed one of my old shirts, figuring that it would probably be too big, but, whatever, and a pair of shorts (they'd probably act like regular pants for him anyway), before heading back. I trusted that he had his own underwear or whatever. I knocked once or twice on the door.

"Hey, Hiei? I'm leaving some clothes out here for you to change into, okay? We'll wash your others!"

I left out the "or burn them", but I'm pretty sure it was implied. After all, those _things_ were ripped in numerous places, not just where that sword wound was, and they were so dirty I didn't think a hundred cycles in the washing machine could ever fully take the grime out of them. That, and they stank like hell! Seriously, it was a wonder that I didn't smell him coming!

Well, a few minutes later, the water cut off (which was a surprise, since I wasn't sure that he could figure out how to do that on his own), and about a minute after that a clean, if a bit wet, Hiei emerged from the bathroom, clothed in my old shirt and pants. Of course, he looked _really_ funny, because while most of his hair was still sticking straight up, his bangs and the bit in the back were plastered to his head from the water, giving him a really weird look. He stared at me for a second, before shaking his head like a dog would, water flying everywhere.

"So now, Hiei, we've got to brush your hair," I declared, looking at how tangled and such it was. I bet it still had leaves and pine needles in it, too. I said "we" since I didn't think any single person, human or demon, could take down that mess on their own.

He nodded, unusually complacent now. Almost like the warm water had tranquilized him. That, or with the dirt and crap washed out of his hair, his head felt so much lighter that he was still trying to get used to it. Figuring that I'd probably have to replace my brush after this, I still removed the instrument from my drawer while he looked on at my room. Cluttered though it may have been, I liked my room. I wasn't sure what he felt, though. Hiei seemed relatively good about guarding his emotions. Aw well. His loss.

I triumphantly held up the hairbrush, found in the back of one of my junk drawers (hey…One, I use a comb, and two, like I said, I hardly ever brushed my hair anyway), and brought him back to the couch. I figured that he'd shed like Kuwabara's cat once I started brushing out that black mess where combs, and, probably, fingers, were lost forever. Of course, I didn't want Hiei hair all over my bed. I slept in that, after all! So, the couch was fine.

It took a decent portion of my strength to drag the brush through his hair once. That was it. Once. And throughout that one, tiny part, he was insisting that I was going to rip all of his hair out of his head, in between telling me that I was incompetent and that I was heartless for employing such torture upon him. Part of me thought that he was joking, but part of me said that that was probably how demon world worked, and that he might have honestly meant it.

An hour, an exhausted Yusuke, and a grumpy Hiei later, his hair had been finally tamed to a level where neither of us felt fit to continue. The funny thing was, it still stuck out like that. Yup, it was definitely natural.

My brush was so filled with long, black hair that I reasoned that there was no point in keeping it. There were two or three raven-colored hairballs on the floor from where I had cleaned it out earlier, and if I hadn't been there I would've sworn that a panther or something decided to groom itself here. A couple of broken off "teeth" from the brush littered the floor, as well as a handful of pine needles, a few bits of leaves, and something that he claimed was pine resin, although it looked suspiciously like hardened blood. I didn't question how this stuff got there; I'd rather not know, actually.

"So, uh, Hiei…feel any better?" I asked, throwing the brush in the trash.

"You try to tear my hair out by the roots and you ask if I'm feeling better?" he shot back, testy.

"Sorry, but your hair was just plain awful, buddy! Doesn't it feel better not to have all that crap stuck to your head?"

He glared at me, which I took to be a yes. Honestly, this guy needed to learn social skills or something.

"You better not have had lice or anything," I warned.

He smirked at that, before the air around him grew stiflingly hot for a second.

"Any parasites that chose to live on _my_ skin would not live for very long. Any that may have been there have been burned off."

"Uh-huh…when was the last time you set yourself on fire?" I asked.

"About four days ago. Rest assured, Yusuke, I am fine."

I grinned at him.

"Great! And here I thought that I was going to have to spray you down with Raid!" I exclaimed.

"Insecticide?" he questioned.

"Oh yeah."

He could only shake his head, and I think I heard a murmur of "stupid humans".


	4. Yup, That's Me, SWAT Team Yusuke

"I will not be here forever, Yusuke," Hiei grunted from his position on my couch, again running his fingers through his hair. I suppose the loss of a few pounds of crap from his hair still bothered him.

"Well, no duh!" I cheerfully replied. "Besides, what would I do with you?"

"In fact, I'll probably be gone by tomorrow at the earliest," he continued, ignoring my comment.

"What?" I exclaimed. "That early?"

"Of course. I'll be sufficiently healed then to stay on my own, and I still have to fight Eight-Hands and settle my score with the fox, Shuuichi, I believe. Did you honestly think that I would stay?"

"Well, I…"

For once, I didn't have an answer. A day. That's all I'd had. A day. A single goddamn day with the only demon that I would probably ever meet, and now he was going to leave and expect me to just go back to my life. How could I? After knowing that there was much more out there, that there really were supernatural beings with third eyes and fire powers and gravity-defying hair, how could I honestly go back to living a normal life? There was no way in hell that I could.

"Well, what? I've made it quite clear from the beginning that I was not to become some kind of household pet to you," he bluntly went on. "Why are you so surprised?"

"Well, y'know, I thought that we were…friends," I lamely replied. Of course the demon assassin-killer-thief-whatever the hell he was wasn't my friend! How stupid was I? He said so himself that he may have lied to get into my house in the first place. And he had given me that weird look when I said that he was my friend… God, I sounded like some lovestruck little girl! Would I really be that affected if Three-Eyes left? I just met him, after all!

Something told me that I would be. He was just so…unique! His utter lack of manners, his temper, his seeming inability to smile… Humans just didn't come like that.

He stared, taken aback for a second. He seemed thoroughly confused.

"What?" I asked.

"You honestly consider me a friend?" he said after a bit, voice soft.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't want to be your friend!" he vehemently spat, turning away from me. "I don't need friends at all! 'Friends' are all well and good—until they stab you in the back! I don't want or need anyone!"

I stared, shocked by his sudden display of violent fervor.

"Damn it, man, all I said was that I thought that you were a friend! If you're going to be all pissy about it, then leave if you want! I don't care!" I yelled.

I never knew the true meaning of the word "fire" until I stared into his vicious crimson eyes right then. Lighter reds and oranges danced behind his usual garnet red, and the irises themselves seemed to shift and swirl until it made me almost dizzy. His pupils, instead of dilating in anger, had contracted to the point where they were mere dots of black, and the red in his eyes seemed to have consumed part of the whites immediately around them. In all actuality, his eyes appeared as orbs of blazing hellfire, and they were truly unnerving, like looking into some sort of creature's eyes. I didn't know if he was doing it on purpose or not, but it was still pretty frightening.

"Fine!" he yelled, running for the door. He was moving so fast my eyes could barely even follow him, and even then he was but a black blur. He opened the door, glared back at me, then bolted…into the bright light of daytime, where anyone could see him. Cursing myself for my stupidity, I ran after him. The careless bastard had even left behind his sword and clothes!

Thinking quickly, I grabbed his blade, trying to belt it to my hip as I ran. Granted, running around with a sword was an easy way to get myself arrested, but he probably wouldn't fully leave without it and I wasn't going to risk leaving it at home, where he might steal it back. No, I'd haul Three-Eyes back if it killed me!

It wasn't long before I found a few people gawking at something. Shouldering my way through them, I saw a small puddle of blood. It had to be Hiei's! His wound probably reopened, and now he was leaving a trail that even I could follow.

"Yes!" I cheered, eliciting some weird stares. Who _cheered_ at the sight of blood?

With that, I looked for the next bit of blood. There was some in a fairly easy to follow path leading away from my apartment, so I, like a couple other people that had noticed, ran after it.

It led on for quite a bit, before cutting off entirely. Around the last of the blood splatters was a whole crowd of people, gawking and staring like it was the Tokyo Dome martial arts tournament, only minus the cheering and the kick-ass fighting. Either Three-Eyes found some alternate means of travel, like, say, hailing a cab or something, he was dragged off by someone or something else, or, haunting though it was, he died and his corpse faded out of existence. Figuring that even in his wounded state, Hiei would not have been killed, I ruled out the last one. He seemed almost as tough as I was, and I'd never get myself killed! So, either he went somewhere else on his own or he was hauled off. Who would kidnap Hiei, though? Only that Eight-Hands dude or whoever that fox was… Oh, what did Hiei say his name was?

"C'mon Yusuke, think, damnit!" I thought aloud. "What was it? Shu-something, right? Shuki? Shuui? God, what was his name?"

"Are you looking for Shuuichi? As in, Shuuichi Minamino?" a girl next to me asked.

I turned to stare at her. She could help me find Three-Eyes, and she wasn't too bad to look at, if you catch my drift. She was pretty plain-looking, with short black hair and wide brown eyes, a combination shared by me, but right now I didn't care.

"Shuuichi? Yeah, that was his name! You know him?" I asked, hoping that she knew the right Shuuichi. I doubted it, since fox demons probably didn't just befriend random chicks off the streets, but it was as good a start as any.

"Know him? Of course! Shuuichi's my best friend," the girl replied. "Why do you need to find him?"

"Well, uh, this is gonna sound weird, but did Shuuichi ever, like, slash up some black-haired demon kid with red eyes?" I questioned.

_God, she's going to think I'm a psycho! Yusuke, you dumbass!_

She stared at me suspiciously.

"How do you know about that?" she demanded.

Whoa…shocker there. Not only does she not think I'm a nutjob, but I'm right! Score!

"It's not important! I have to find him!"

"Are you…in league with _them_?"

"Them? Who the hell is 'them'?" I asked.

"The evil demons here, like that one you mentioned. If you are, I'll have you know that the police will have you arrested in seconds."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, I'm human, for one. The only demon I've ever met is black-haired and grumpy, and certainly not evil. He said he got in a fight with a fox demon named Shuuichi in a misunderstanding. Look, I just have to find Shuuichi, okay? I have to! Someone's life depends on it!" I yelled.

"So…you're spiritually aware, like me?" she asked.

"Well, I guess… I dunno. The point is, I need your freaking help!"

She nodded.

"I'm Maya Kitajima. You are?"

"Yusuke Urameshi. Get used to the name, 'cause I'm the toughest street fighter in Sariyashiki Junior High and soon to be the best fighter ever!" I explained.

She shook her head.

"Not if you have to fight demons, you won't be."

I was miffed at that. Hey, I had helped Three-Eyes when he was bleeding to death, and I could take on any wussy demon I met!

"Humph. You'll see."

She shrugged, leading me away from the blood smears. Maya didn't say anything for a while, and it started to bug me. I like noise. If she wouldn't talk, then I'd have to make some noise on my own. I whistled one of my favorite songs as we walked, trying not to think about what would happen if I was wrong and that Shuuichi had nothing to do with this. If he didn't, then Three-Eyes was probably dead. It was a fact I had to face.

We arrived at a large house in a nice neighborhood, something that looked about ten times more expensive than anything my mom could buy. A really nice car was parked in the driveway, and a beautifully grown garden was in the front. I carefully examined the ground, the grass, the car, and everything else for any signs of blood, but there was nothing. Ah well. I hadn't figured that it would be that easy anyway.

"Here we are," she announced.

I nodded.

"So, we go in, interrogate Fox-Boy, and then leave if he doesn't have Hiei?"

"Interrogate? No one is interrogating Shuuichi! He wouldn't kidnap your demon friend without a very good reason!" she exclaimed. "We ring the doorbell, _ask_ him if he's seen Hiei, then if he doesn't, we thank him and try to get his help. What do you think you are, some kind of SWAT member?"

"Nope! No SWAT team dude, but a future detective! After all, I got this far from nothing, right?"

I laughed at my own joke, and she even chuckled at it. She was no Keiko, but she was pretty nice. But seriously…I could be a good detective. It sounded interesting, but not really _me_. I was a fighter, not a private eye!

We stepped up the walk to the door, and I rang the doorbell. No response for about five seconds, and I rang it again impatiently. Maya could only shake her head.

"Yes?" a redheaded boy asked, opening the door. "Oh, Maya! What are you doing here? And who is this?"

"Well, we're here to-" she started, but I cut her off.

"The hell have you done with Hiei?" I demanded.

He stared, surprised.

"Who are you?" he insisted, green eyes narrowing dangerously. "If you mean me harm, I will show no mercy!"

"Geez, man, you and your girlfriend are both so touchy! I mean, geez! I'm not some evil demon dude or whatever; I just want to find where Three-Eyes went!"

After a second, he nodded.

"I think you two should come in," he stated, opening the door wide.

"Great!" I exclaimed, ducking under his arm and stepping in, kicking off my tennis shoes. Maya followed behind, seeming more confident now that Shuuichi was close by. Maybe she had been afraid that I was some kind of psycho killer-rapist or something. Nah, never! That was weird even for me!

"Mother, I have some friends here!" he called out.

"That's wonderful, Shuuichi! Who are they? Is Maya here?"

"Yes, Mother! It's Maya and-" He stared at me.

"Yusuke."

"It's Maya and Yusuke!" he yelled.

A middle-aged woman with long, jet black hair tied back in a bun came out of the kitchen, wearing a pleasant smile. It didn't take a genius to see that she was a cheerful person by nature—the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth clearly told that. You know, I think I need to stop using that expression. 'It didn't take a genius to…' is kind of obvious, since I'm no genius and I'm noticing all this. Let's just dispense with that expression altogether, okay? Okay! Now that we've agreed on that, are there any other expressions that just need to die? I mean, I can't think of any right now. 'More than one way to skin a cat' is actually a great one, especially since Kuwabara freaks out if you use it around him. Ah, good times, good times…

"Hello there, Yusuke. It's nice to meet you," she greeted, shaking my hand. Now, that woman had a handshake like something else. This wasn't some pathetic, little old lady. She was _strong_ for a normal mom!

"Nice to meet you too," I replied, trying to be polite.

"Hello there, Mrs. Minamino," Maya chimed, smiling at her.

"It's good to see you too, Maya."

"Great! Now that the happy introductions are done, we can start with the important stuff! Isn't that right, Shuuichi?" I said.

"Yes, that school project does need to be done. Come into the kitchen and we'll get some snacks, okay?"

I blinked, about to point out that I didn't even go to his freaking school, before a quick glance from him shut me up. Ah, yeah…cover ups. Right! Right! I'd never get anywhere in my fictitious detective career without a good cover up!

We followed him into the kitchen, his mother deciding to leave her son alone. That, I could appreciate. Ah, sweet freedom.

We sat at the table as he dished out some chips, before sitting down as well.

"What do you know about Hiei?" he asked at last.

"Well, uh, he's a three-eyed demon and he went missing a few minutes ago. You better not have taken him hostage, fox-boy! If you did, so help me god I'll rip your lungs out and feed them to you!" I exclaimed. Maybe not a detective, then. Maybe a cop. Yeah, I could be good cop _and_ bad cop. Yup. I was just that good.

His calm expression didn't so much as waver. Either he was used to dealing with uncouth teenage punks, or he was just that kind of person. Neither of those two options sounded particularly nice to me right now. I mean, either way, he was dangerous. Still, what kind of dangerous fox demon dude wore a _pink uniform?_ I mean, really!

"I have not seen this 'Hiei' since he attacked me two days ago," he told me.

"Yeah, and you just left him to freakin' die! If he hadn't showed up on my doorstep, he would've bled to death! Isn't that nice, buddy? You just willingly kill off a completely innocent guy!"

"Yusuke, Hiei is by no means innocent. He is famous in the demon world as a thief and killer. That, and he attempted to kill both Maya and I," Shuuichi explained.

"Yeah, well he seemed plenty fine to me, and now he's gone! Someone or something got him, and we have to find him!" I steamed, pacing around his kitchen.

"Eight-Hands!" he exclaimed.

"Wait, you know who that is too?"

"This is bad. If Eight-Hands has taken Hiei, who knows what could happen? Fine, Yusuke, I will help you. Maya, now, you don't have to-"

"I'm coming," she declared. "I'm as much a part of this as you are."

"Great. Now, c'mon, team handshake, everyone!" I called out.

Shuuichi chuckled lightly at that, before placing his hand in the middle of the group. We placed our hands on top of his, then nodded and pulled our hands back. We were going to rescue Hiei!

* * *

So, yup, it's Mayatastic fun! Who can't help but love having Maya? Yup, Sora Sotara, there. You wanted her in here, and it was so very easy to do, not to mention terribly convenient for me. Yup. Woot! So, uh, just review...Nice,happy review... Gotta love it! 


	5. Tactics and Girl Problems

"So, what're we waiting for? Let's go find this Eight-Hands and kick his ass!" I declared, pounding my fist into my palm.

"It's not that easy," Shuuichi told me. "Eight-Hands is quite powerful, and I'm not even sure that the three of us could defeat him."

"And I'm not much of a fighter either," Maya added. "I could help with finding him, but that's about it."

I nodded, pacing around the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah, 'powerful'. That's what Three-Eyes said, but I mean, it's me! I can take him!"

"I do not believe that you understand the situation, Yusuke," the redhead replied. "Eight-Hands is famous in the demon plane as one of the lesser bloodthirsty killers, although there is nothing 'lesser' about his power in comparison to ours. Neither of us could beat him alone, and I doubt that the both of us put together could. We would need Hiei's aid in this, assuming he is still alive and fit to fight. The chances of victory are slim."

"Yeah. Uh-huh. That's what they said at the Alamo!"

"Yusuke, the Alamo_lost_," Maya pointed out.

"They did?"

She sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. I suppose I had just made an ass of myself in front of two people I just met, but who cared? See, this is what I get for going to school. If we hadn't covered the Alamo in World History, I never would've brought up the freaking reference. Besides, how was I supposed to know that they lost? We spent like a week or something on that, so I figured they had to have won. How was I supposed to know?

"Well, that's not the point. We'll win! 'Cause you know, the Alamo didn't have me!" I declared, grinning.

Maya rolled her eyes.

"I'm _sure_ they would've won if they had only had one more teenager to have to feed and not have a weapon for. Yup, that was definitely it. You would've _surely_ won it all," she sarcastically muttered, getting a slight smile from Shuuichi.

"Well, even if they did lose the fight, they won the war, right?"

The redhead nodded.

"However, unlike them, we do not have any other forces to take our places after we lose. Quite frankly, the battle _is_ the war. If we mess up… Well, I don't think I have to say it," Shuuichi gravely replied.

I shrugged. We weren't going to lose! If Fox Boy was good enough to beat Hiei, and then add in me, we could so take down a lesser killer! I mean, isn't that what he said? Lesser, right? Lesser meant easier to beat, or at least I think it did. Math had always been my worst subject. Or was it Japanese that mattered for that? Ah well. So, lesser meant worse, and I could so beat up some worse fighter dude thingy, even if he did have eight hands. Humph. No one ever gave me enough credit.

"Well, c'mon, let's go!" I declared.

"Did you hear a word we said?" Maya asked. "We aren't going yet because we need to make plans!"

"Yeah, plans, yeah… What if Three-Eyes gets killed while we're making plans?"

"Yusuke, he's quite probably already dead," Shuuichi said. "Eight-Hands is not exactly a lenient demon. One of us needs to go on reconnaissance duty to figure out if Hiei is still alive."

"Great. Just point me in the direction of his lair and I'll go find out," I declared. Thank god Keiko taught me what reconnaissance was!

"I'm afraid that you are not the best one suited for this task, Yusuke. My spiritual awareness is higher than yours and I am much better suited for stealth. I shall go," Shuuichi said calmly.

"Shuuichi, you could never find the place without _my_ help," Maya cut in. "So, being the only one able to find him on my own, I'll go."

"But, it isn't exactly safe. Shouldn't I go with you? Or, better yet, just go alone?" the redhead argued.

"Isn't safe? I knew it wasn't safe when I agreed to this! Shuuichi, you can't find it on your own. I can handle myself," she replied.

"Well, okay, so I'll go with you, then, and-"

"I'll go _alone_," she told him firmly. "There's no point in wasting effort. Besides…"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. I bet the stupid chick was talking about me. Ha.

"I'm perfectly trustable!" I declared.

They both stared at me.

"What are you talking about?" the green-eyed boy asked.

"Well, y'know, I thought-"

"Never mind," she cut off. "The point is, I'll go."

Shuuichi looked displeased, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't argue anymore. He knew that it was a lost cause. Poor guy. Yet another victim falls to the attitude problems of girls. Of course, she didn't slap him across the face, which was better than Keiko did for me. Then again, he also didn't try to cop a feel. Ah well. I guess any guy who wears a uniform, does all his homework (his comment about the "project" he had to do gave that away), and calls his mom "Mother" probably isn't into that. His loss.

"Be careful," he said at last. "If you need help, I'll be right-"

"Here, planning with Yusuke. You're the brains of this team, and we need you to come up with a good plan. As you said, he'll be impossible to beat otherwise."

"Well, okay…" he conceded. See? Girls strike again! They look all innocent with their wide eyes and their (usual) lack of huge muscles, but then they attack when you least expect it! They're like those cute little snakes that you find in your backyard or something that end up having these inch-long fangs when you go to pick them up. They always come in to get you right when you think you're in control. So, a word to the not-so-wise: Do not be tricked. They are _scary_ when mad. "You need some sort of weapon or something, though, in case he attacks you. You need to be able to defend yourself."

I took off my coat, revealing Hiei's sword.

"Good thing I brought this," I declared, handing it to her. "It belongs to Three-Eyes, though, so don't get it lost or anything."

Shuuichi shook his head, as if to say "I should've known", but agreed that the sword was the best bet for this. After all, he didn't have any conveniently placed handguns hanging around. Actually…

"Hey, Fox Boy, why don't we just shoot the damn thing?" I asked.

"One, none of us own guns, two, we're all too young to buy any, and three, none of us have any training with one so we'd probably end up killing ourselves instead. Any other ideas?"

"Well, y'know, if I just ask my mom for one she might actually buy it, and plus, how hard can it be?" I asked, holding my hand like it was a gun, thumb up. With my other hand, I braced it, pointed it at Shuuichi, then pulled my hand back like I had shot it. "You just point and shoot. Pow."

"Eight-Hands could always take it," he reminded me. "The name is quite accurate."

"Or, he could have his brains splattered all over the floor."

"It would not be tactful to get a gun, Yusuke. That is final."

"Yeah… Mom prob'ly wouldn't have bought one anyway…"

"Are you done yet, boys?" she asked. "Shuuichi, do you have a jacket I could borrow? Walking around with this thing would probably get me arrested. I'm surprised that Yusuke wasn't called in by the cops."

"Well, since I couldn't figure out how to pull it on, I just kind of tucked it under my jacket. I guess everyone was too concerned with the blood to really pay attention to me," I replied, shrugging.

"You know where my room is. Please feel free to take your pick of the jackets in my closet, although I would recommend the orange one for you. It would be long enough to cover up the weapon and also is quite warm."

There he went again, all overprotective. What was she, his girlfriend? Actually…that was possible. I thought over it. He was so concerned for her, and she did seem to always be staring at him… Huh. I guessed that I'd just have to ask Fox Boy when Maya left.

She nodded and ran up the stairs as I crammed a couple of chips in my mouth. Mm, cheddar. Cheddar was fine.

"Tho, Thuuie, i e or url?" I asked.

"Pardon me?"

I chewed and swallowed.

"I said, so, Shuuichi, is she your girl?"

He smiled at me.

"Of course not. We're just friends."

_Tell _her_ that_, I thought, but I said nothing. Who was I to bitch at him about his life? He could live it as he wanted to. I wasn't his mom, after all.

"Yeah. Whatever," I mumbled, indicating that the topic was officially dropped.

"So, Yusuke, what school do you go to?" he asked, a kind of creepy smile on. I mean, it wasn't like "psycho-killer" creepy or "perverted stalker" creepy. It was just _creepy_. It looked all warm and happy, and his large, almost girlish green eyes even lit up, but it was still just plain _creepy_. Like…like… well, I can't describe it. There was just something about it that seemed wrong, off, or something like that. I don't know.

"Uh, Sariyashiki Junior High. You?" I asked, even though his uniform showed quite clearly that he was a Mieo kid.

"You already know," he said, that eerie smile getting a tad wider. But man, even if it was a kind of creepy smile, he sure was nice. I felt myself starting to like the kid already. He had that sort of "trust me" feeling, as well as a lonely sort of look to him. I guess the guy didn't have too many friends. Ah well.

Right then, Maya came back down, a hyper-glow orange jacket on.

"Okay, now I'm going to go, okay?" she said.

"Be careful," Shuuichi murmured. "Okay?"

"Yes, _mother_, I will," she joked, smiling at him. "Don't get yourself killed while fighting this guy, okay?"

"Sure thing _mom_," he teased, his smile shifting from "creepy" to "amused". This guy was weird…

"What about me?" I indignantly asked.

"Oh, you? It's fine if _you_ get killed," Maya replied, a smug grin on her face.

"Yeah, yeah… But of course, the day Yusuke Urameshi dies is the day that Kuwabara gets a passing grade on any test other than Phys Ed."

"Kuwabara?" they both echoed.

"Eh, some dope in my school. A 'rival' street fighter, or so he says. I've beaten him to the ground hundreds of times."

Maya arched an eyebrow, but the black-haired girl said nothing. Yeah…street fights weren't really girl things.

"Goodbye, Shuuichi," she quietly said, giving him a quick hug before running out the door.

"Huh? No hug for me?" I asked the redhead incredulously.

He smiled, shaking his head.

"Would you feel better if _I_ gave you a hug?"

"Nah, wouldn't be the same. I mean, the whole 'Goodbye, this may be the last time we see each other' thing, coupled with her being a hot chick, makes it a lot different than a perfectly safe guy sitting in the same room as me giving me a hug. One is cool and romantic, one is slightly creepy and out of place. Okay?" I explained.

His eyelids fell a noticeable bit, and he looked away, smile melting into a slight frown.

_Crap, what did I say? Oh, wait, the part about 'may be the last time we see each other' and 'perfectly safe guy' might've done it. Damn, why do I always say the wrong thing? Well, what's done is done, and the only thing to do about it is apologize and hope that you don't make it any worse._

"Oh, dude, sorry 'bout that. Wasn't thinking."

He nodded, making eye contact again.

"Don't worry," he lightly said. "There's nothing we can do about it by worrying. So, plans, right?"

"Yeah, I think so. How does 'march up to his lair and kick his ass, then rescue Hiei' sound to you?" I asked.

"I…think we can do better. Obviously, we'll need the layout of his lair to form any true tactics beyond basic teamwork, but why not prepare while we can?"

"Sure, whatever," I agreed. "Aren't you supposed to draw some little map and then point out stuff?"

He looked amused.

"Only for planning out actual battles and such, not something like our two-on-one fight. Or, if it all goes well, three-on-one. For starters, the second we can, we need to free Hiei. Assuming that he is fit to fight and trapped somehow, that is. If he's unconscious, he won't do us much good, and running from Eight-Hands is suicide."

I nodded, already beginning to space out. My mind was shifting from "fun jokes and interesting stuff" mode to "someone's telling me a bunch of weird facts that I may never need to know" mode. For all of you with half a brain cell out there (no, Kuwabara, that does not mean you), congratulations, this is the same mindset I have during school. Yay. Of course, school's like a hundred times more boring, but the principle remains the same, right? Right.

"Yusuke, food!" he suddenly exclaimed. I instantly snapped out of it.

"Where?"

"Glad to see I have your attention," he smugly remarked. "Now, _tactics._"

"Yeah, yeah…"

"Obviously, most usual tagteam maneuvers will not work because of his four arms. Therefore, we should-"

"But isn't he called Eight-Hands?" I interrupted.

"Four arms, two legs, and two arms in place of ears. He cannot fight with his feet-hands, and the arm hands are too high up to be much use. Still, he has twice the number of weapons as we do, so remember that."

"So, basically, he's a freaking mutant psycho-killer thing?"

He smiled at that, which really surprised me, since I was sure that he'd sigh and roll his eyes like every other person. Huh. He really was nice.

"I suppose so," he said, although a quick flash of _something_ in his eyes kind of unnerved me. "So, speaking of psycho-killers, have you ever met any?" he asked, a downright mischievous grin stamped across his features. He was grinning as much as he physically could without showing his teeth and his eyes were half-closed, those almost delicate-looking crimson eyebrows raised, and his fingers were pressed together in a steeple. Oh yes, there was no doubt about it. He was serious here.

"Uh, other than Three-Eyes, no. I take it you're one of them?"

His expression instantly altered to a puzzled and completely innocent look, with his head cocked to the side, his eyes wide and guiltless and everything.

"Why would you say that?" he wondered in a perfectly normal tone of voice.

"Well, uh, y'know, I…" I started.

"I assure you, I wouldn't harm a fly," he promised. "Now, the best way to kill a big demon like him is with multiple horizontal slashes. Pretty much, the more blood, the better, really. If you really want to do it right, make sure to snap a few ribs and tear the arms and legs off, too, but make sure that they're alive enough to answer your questions. If they don't, just break every tiny bone left in their body until they give in. Torture gets all the answers, right?"

I stared, mouth hanging open. Was this kid bipolar or something? I mean, going from sadistic killer to innocent kid back to sadistic killer was kind of weird.

"Dude, you know that that was just plain creepy. Saying 'I wouldn't hurt a fly' and 'Torture gets all the answers' in the same breath is weird. Are you like, okay?"

"Never better," he replied, that childlike smile back on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Well, y'know, quick mood swings and what all…"

"No, no, it's just a game," he assured. "Isn't that right? No! Bad voices! It_is_ just a game! Don't scare our new friend!"

I gaped, eyes as wide as saucers. This guy was a regular head case. Okay…let's see how this seems as of yet. A juvenile delinquent works together with a nutjob and a tomboyish girl to save a feisty three-eyed demon from another, eight-handed demon, before the demon destroys a city that knows nothing about it, all while the nutjob is arguing with the voices in his head? Someone, give me a cold shower and a cup of coffee, 'cause I really must've accidentally gotten into some of my mom's alcohol. Except I hate cold showers and coffee tastes like crap. Damn.

He grinned impishly at me.

"Don't worry, I really am quite sane. I was only joking."

I half-expected him to get into another argument with his "voices", but he didn't. Ah well then. My whole summary was still right, just replace "nutjob" with "nerd" and replace "arguing with the voices in his head" with "having to finish all his homework before tomorrow". Yeah. Because this was just fine… What a screwed up world I live in, eh?

* * *

Okay now, let's explain a few things before I'm, like, attacked, okay? I'm not into the whole Kuwabara bashing thing, but this _is_ being told by Yusuke and he _did_ have a habit of repeatedly dissing Kuwabara. So, I'm just trying to stay in character, okay? Now, anyway, onto the whole Kurama thing. We already know that he likes keeping his verbal sparring partner completely disarmed, so, really, he's just toying with a helpless Yusuke. Yup. So, yeah, just review and everything will be nice... 


End file.
